


Urban Legend

by SonjaJade



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Being Lost, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 02:49:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10453281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonjaJade/pseuds/SonjaJade
Summary: It’s been a while since Van’s been here, and the landscape is not as he remembers, but he’ll find his way eventually.  He has to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> FMA Fic Contest Prompt: Use a line or stanza of poetry in your story (I chose "Not all those who wander are lost" from Tolkien's Lord of the Rings.
> 
> OC's speech is heavily accented. Misspellings are intentionally there to help you get a feel for how he sounds when he speaks.

It was a muggy afternoon, and Hohenheim guessed he must’ve walked about fifteen miles by now…  He looked again at his map.  That old church that topped the next hill was the only landmark he’d recognized, but he knew the precise location had to be about a mile or two back the other way.  He huffed to himself out of frustration, and he turned to look behind him down the long dirt road he’d just traversed.

“Guess I’ll just have to go back,” he grumbled to the birds flying overhead, wishing he could see the lay of the land from above.  Perhaps that would make the difference in being _almost_ at the precise place and actually standing on top of it.  As he shuffled his suitcase and coat from one arm to the other, he spied a truck rambling down the dusty road.  He waved to the driver and the vehicle slowed as it came closer.

“Hello there!” Van called out, smiling brightly.  He stepped off to the side of the road to avoid having his toes flattened.  When the driver stopped, he touched the brim of his farmer’s hat in greeting.  “Do you know this area fairly well?” Hohenheim asked as he mopped sweat from his brow with a stained white handkerchief.

“Yup.  Born an’ bred in these hills,” the old man answered.

The tall blond sighed in relief.  “Thank goodness.  I was wondering if you could tell me where I might find a peculiar shaped rock.  It was about the size of your truck here,” he gestured with his hands, “and it was a kind of pink color?  As I recall, it was in the shape of fish, sort of…”

The man cocked an eyebrow at him, then spit tobacco juice into an empty beer bottle.  “You talkin’ ‘bout that whale rock?”

Van nodded.  “Yes!  That’s it exactly!  It used to sit out here somewhere, before you get to the church!”

“Mister, I dunno where ya got yer information, but that rock’s been sittin’ up in th’ church yard fer over eighty years.  My grandpappy helped ‘em haul it up there.”  He looked Hohenheim over and said, “Maybe you been out in this heat too long…”

Van stood up straight scratched at his beard thoughtfully and hummed in confusion.  “I could have sworn it was right here, where the hillside turns into cliffs just above the river.”  Then he looked back to the man in the truck.  “Well, if the rock was moved, where are the Rocky Steps?”

The man eyed him warily, but pointed back down the road.  “Best way tuh get thar is go back 'at way ‘bout a mile, past ‘at big ol’ hickory tree with th’  bench cut into the roots.  You’ll see uh well house about uh hundert feet from thar, an’ ya go into th’ thicket b’hind it an’ follow th’ creek to top of ‘em steps.”  He spit again, and said almost gently, “That’s no place for uh lost man tuh be wanderin’ so close to nightfall.  I can give ya a lift intuh town if ya like-”

Hohenheim laughed heartily and stuck his hand out to the driver.  He shook hands with him and said, “No that’s alright, friend.  I know where I’m going, I just lost my landmark.  Besides, not all those who wander are lost.  I’ve seen lots of beautiful countryside out here today, and that in itself was worth losing my marker.”  He picked up his suitcase again and waved.  “Thanks so much for stopping!”  He turned and began strolling back the way he came, wondering what the local thought of a seemingly forty something year old man knowing the original location of a rock his grandfather personally moved to another location.

He grinned to himself.  He probably just became the main character a new folk tale.  Some of the voices inside of him laughed at that thought, and he couldn’t help a chuckle as well.

But as he approached his destination at last, his thoughts turned serious.  His blood had to saturate the ground at that specific point.  The souls within him knew the importance of lying in wait for their heroic debut, their chance to finally rest in peace and let Hohenheim find some peace as well.  When the precise location came into view at last, 528,690 sighs of relief rang through Van Hohenheim’s body.


End file.
